


Mulder

by catsaremyboyfriend



Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsaremyboyfriend/pseuds/catsaremyboyfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ugh okay so usually I hate doing original characters but this came into my head and wouldn't leave. It's not OOC and the whole team is featured. The chick is Cougar's sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She’d always figured that Cougar didn’t have a family. Like the rest of them, besides Jensen with his sister and niece.  
Pooch made his own family, his parents dead when he turned eighteen, Clay’s family is dead, her family is dead. Shit like that makes them who they are. Her mother was in the process of giving her a sister when she died. Siblings are unthinkable.  
Now Clay’s telling her that they’re going up to New York to see Cougar’s _sister_.

“Cougar has a family?” 

Clay gives her a weird look. “Yeah. He has six younger siblings.” 

She’s kind of offended he never told her. If she’s close with anyone on the team, it would be Cougar. Sometimes they hang out for _hours_. Well, she’s cleaning her guns and so is he, but that counts, right? “And no one thought to tell me this?” 

“Figured you knew.” The team thinks she’s omniscient or something. She did her research before joining, but family wasn’t part of it. 

“So why’re we going to see this sister?” 

“Catalina. She’s NYPD.” 

“Cops are hot,” Jensen calls from the other room, then there’s the mild smack of Cougar hitting the back of his head. 

“Esa es mi hermana.” 

Clay’s eyes go soft, crinkle at the corners. “Boys. Be nice.” He’s such a dad. She can see him bouncing a kid on his knee, playing baseball in the backyard. Things missed. It almost makes her sad. They’ve given up a lot for the revenge. It’s worth it. 

“What does she have for us?” 

Clay shrugs. He finds it hard to talk to her, after the betrayal. She doesn’t regret anything. “A place to stay. Info on Max.” 

Aisha stands without answering, heads to interrogate Cougar. He’s sitting sideways on the dingy couch that seems to be in every safe house, one leg thrown over Jensen’s lap, the other dangling loose. “You never told me you have siblings.”

He looks at her, but she can’t read his face. Never can. “Yeah, Cougar’s parents got _bizzay_.” She ignores Jensen. 

“What are their names?” It says a lot that he tells her without hesitating, unworried for his family’s safety from her. Trust. It’s new, but she likes it. 

“Adelia. Rebeca and Diego. Javier. Enrico. Catalina.” 

“You should’ve told me.” She squints at Pooch. “Are you hiding any more family from me?” 

He grins, shakes his head. “Nah. It’s just Jolene and Pooch Jr.”  
_____________________________  
If Catalina was the type to freak out, she’d be freaking out right now. But four years on the job and a lifetime spent copying Carlos keeps her calm. She can’t believe she’s letting him bring his whole team here. Can’t believe they call him _Cougar_.

“Now there are two cats in the family,” Diego had joked when Carlos let his new nickname slip. It’s alright. He’s still her big brother.  
He came back from Afghanistan a ghost. Never talkative, he didn’t speak at all. She was seventeen at the time, spent her senior year driving him to therapy appointments, trying to convince him to open up. She stayed awake nights sitting outside his room while he tossed and turned, whimpering. Then he joined the Losers and started smiling again. She’ll take it.  
___________________________________  
Cougar’s sister lives in Jamaica, Queens, which Jensen assures her is the most dangerous area in New York. Aisha laughs. She was raised in Pakistan. This is nothing.  
The sister’s apartment is a small building, indecipherable graffiti on the front door. She comes out to greet them herself. Like Cougar, she’s compact and beautiful. Skin a shade darker than her brother’s, hair cropped to just below her ears. Her face is unreadable, blank mask of politeness that falls when she sees Cougar. 

“Carlos!” she calls, running over to unlock the front gate. He heaves his bag over his shoulder and kisses her cheek. They chat quietly in Spanish as she ushers them inside. The conversation isn’t very deep, about his parents and the rest of their siblings, Cougar asking how her job is going.  
She looks like a cop, has a badge tattooed on her right shoulder. She’s dressed casually, jeans and tank top, but Aisha can see the tell-tale bulge of a gun at her waist. When they reach her apartment she pauses. “S’ small, sorry.” 

Her voice is husky, a little accented. Aisha leans forward, flirting without really thinking about it. “That’s alright, chulita.” She’s softer around women, especially women who flush as prettily as Catalina.  
Jensen huffs a laugh and pushes inside, clearly having been here before. There are four sleeping bags on the floor, and a couch. Aisha sits on it before anyone else can come near. The couch is hers, she’ll shank one of the team before she gives it up.  
It’s a small place, just the living room, looking out on the fire escape, a kitchen, and two doors that lead, she assumes, to the bedroom and bath. Cute, though, pictures of her family and friends, soft pillows and superhero posters. It’s strange to see Cougar smiling back at her from framed photos, younger and smiling widely. 

“We should all get some sleep,” Clay decides, kicking his boots off. He shoots an apologetic look at Catalina. “Sorry, we’re not being very interesting guests.” 

She shrugs. “S’already ten. Was gonna sleep anyway.”

“Day off tomorrow?” Cougar asks, kissing her forehead. She’s the youngest, his baby sister, Aisha can tell.

“Si.” They nod at each other before she slips into her room. Aisha’s lids are already drooping so she lays back on the couch and falls asleep.

 

Aisha wakes up earlier than the rest of the team. Always has. Usually she goes for a run, but she doesn’t know this area. She doesn’t take unnecessary risks, although she can take care of herself. She goes to the kitchen instead, gets familiar with the coffee maker.  
Cougar will be up in a bit, then Jensen, cause where Cougar goes so goes his nation, then Clay, and finally Pooch. For now, she watches the sun rise, swinging her foot.

She’s sipping at her coffee when Cougar’s sister stumbles in, sleep-soft and rumpled. She glances up when Aisha clears her throat. “Morning.” Catalina nods and takes the cup offered to her, adds cream. “I went through your cabinets.” Catalina waves a hand, drinks deep. “Not a morning person?” 

“Not an anytime person. I prefer to be asleep.” 

“Cops are usually like that. Sleep deprived, I mean.” 

“Mm.” They’re quiet for a long moment. Aisha watches her face. She’s lovely, without the hard look Cougar has. Solid, though. Looks like she could do well in a fight and probably has. New York cops are tough. Tough or corrupt, but she doesn’t seem the type to go bent. 

“Catalina.”

She sniffs, wipes at her nose. “Cat, please.” 

“Cat. My name is Aisha, in case Cougar didn’t tell you.”

“I know.”

“Just making sure.” Aisha smiles at her over the brim of her cup, carefully touches a toe to her ankle. Cat is beautiful and interesting. A woman willing to accept a team of mercenaries into her home based only on her brother’s word has depths.  
_____________________________________________  
It’s six in the morning and the most beautiful woman Cat has ever seen is playing footsie with her. Aisha is lean and tall, moves like a predator. She’s got at least three weapons on her right now. Carlos likes her, though. He won’t explain why, but that’s Carlos. 

“What are the rest of your siblings like?” Cat shrugs. She’s difficult to get conversation from, always has been. It helps on the job, with men who think a female cop is an easy target. Aisha waits patiently, hands flat in front of her.  
Her skin glows in the soft light. If Cat wasn’t so gay, she’d be jealous. “I just want to know.” 

Cat smiles, puts her mug down. “Adelia is married. Four kids. Rebeca’s a teacher. Diego’s her twin. Navy. Javier is married, too. Three kids.” She loves her nieces and nephews, Skypes them regularly. 

“I thought you had six siblings.” 

“Enrico is dead. He was Army.” An IED, the most typical story from Iraq. He’d joined right out of high school, so excited to follow in his brother’s footsteps. They sent him back in pieces. He wasn’t even old enough to drink. 

Aisha is silent, her face sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”  
______________________________________  
“I shot Jensen once,” Aisha says, trying for another topic. She understands death, and she understands moving past it. Cat’s eyes narrow, just slightly. She has more tells than Cougar. “I was trying to kill them. We’re good now.” 

Cat relaxes, drinks the dregs of her coffee. “Good.”

Cougar shuffles in minutes later, drops a hand to Cat’s shoulder before heading for the fridge. Jensen follows, sits at the table typing rapidly on his laptop. Cougar hands him an apple and sits to his left, eating a granola bar.  
Aisha can feel the grease in her hair. Plane trips always make her feel dirty, all those people crowded together. She excuses herself and heads for the bath. 

Clay comes in while Aisha’s in the shower, takes a piss. It’s fine, the curtain’s not clear. “Cat’s not volatile,” Aisha says, wiping soap from her eyes as she waits for his soft chuckle. 

“That she is not. She’s a good kid.” 

“You really think she has info on Max?” 

“She’s not the type to lie, not even to make her big brother finally visit.” 

“Alright then.”  
________________________________________  
Cat orders donuts, two dozen, cause she’s got five healthy people and herself that need feeding. Jake’s a bottomless pit, and so it Pooch. She sends Jake out to get them, he hates being cooped up. She listens to the rest of the team make idle conversation, stirs her third cup of coffee. 

Jake comes back with a big grin on his face, and an extra box of donuts. “Sweet talked the lady at the counter,” he says cheerfully, lying the boxes on the table. Jake makes Carlos a person again, so Cat loves him as a brother. 

She touches his hip as he moves past. “Gracias.” 

“Hey, no problem.” They eat quickly. She’s missed the feel of eating with a large group of people. She’s single, and doesn’t make friends easily. There are a few people at work, and Nick, her partner, is close as her brothers, but. It can be lonely. 

Clay eventually burps and leans back, steady gaze on her face. “So, what do you have on Max?”

“I arrested this homeless guy the other day. He was big.” Bigger even than Roque, who none of them talk about. She met him once. He called her sweetheart. “Kept babbling on about a government conspiracy, that he got fucked over and driven out.”

“You figured it was just crazy talk.” She nods, looks to Carlos. She understands his need for vengeance. Some things can only be forgiven through blood. Carlos’ mouth turns up at the corners, reassuring. 

“Then he mentioned Max.” She wants Max dead, for making her think she’d lost another sibling, and for killing twenty-five children. It’s another thing Cougar won’t talk about. “We let him go. He camps near the precinct, though. Name’s Wade.” They all visibly tense. Jake almost falls from his chair. “Wade Gilson,” she finishes, and they loosen.

Aisha lets go of the death grip she had on a butter knife. “What does he look like?” 

“Big. Red hair. Bearded. Bird tattoos on his forearms.” 

The team looks to Clay, who nods. “Jensen and Pooch will go find him. Cougar, you watch their backs.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Pooch asks, staring morosely at his food. He’s not a morning person. 

Clay grins, kicks back in his chair. “Me? I’m gonna relax.” 

“You wanna go for a run before work?” Aisha asks Cat when the boys are gone. Clay’s attempting to fall asleep again, sprawled out on the couch. She’ll let him have her place. For now.

Cat nods, heads for her room. Aisha sighs and watches her go. Aisha looks to Clay, who’s grinning in that annoying way he has. “Hard to get words from the Alvarez family, yeah?” She sneers at him and grabs her running clothes.


	2. Slim

Aisha is quiet as she runs, skin glowing bronze in the early morning light. She stops at a lamppost and leans, stands close enough for Cat to smell the clean sweat, feel the heat of her. _Jesus_. Cat hasn’t been this embarrassing since seventh grade.

She moves a little closer anyway, brushes shoulders. Aisha smiles down at her before stretching, all long graceful limbs. 

“How much further can you go?” 

Cat tilts her head, considering. “Mile. Then we eat.” There’s a place that she found during work, a tiny café that makes croissants she’d kill for. Aisha will like it, she hopes. Aisha is rough and lives only with men. She deserves decadent things.

“Okay.” Cat offers her a shy smile and sets off again, sneakers thumping on the pavement. 

 

They eat at a café that Cat describes as “very good,” which coming from her is a glowing review. As she says this there are tendrils of hair escaping from her headband, curling damply against her temple. Aisha can’t help smiling at her, wide and warm. 

They’re standing outside the café, which is tiny, a few tables inside, two tables out, umbrellas providing shade. Cat laughs suddenly and takes her hand. 

“Come.” Aisha follows willingly, steps inside where the air conditioning is blowing strong. She shivers as the sweat cools on her skin. Cat waves at the cashier, obviously familiar with this place. Aisha notes all the exits without really thinking about it before joining Cat at the counter. “Small coffee, cream, and a croissant,” Cat says softly, pushing a ten dollar bill forward.

“I got it,” Aisha interjects, gently nudging Cat’s fingers out of the way. “And I’ll have the same, with black coffee.” Cat makes a mild sound of protests, but Aisha shushes her. “You’re giving us a place to stay. I owe you.”

Cat shrugs as they walk outside, sit at one of the tables. The sun is warm on her face. “For family, anything.” Aisha gets a look on her face, lost and a little sad. Cat waits patiently, nibbling at her croissant.  
There’s a bang to interrupt their silence and Aisha jumps, hand going to the gun at her hip. Cat smiles and takes the other hand. “It’s just a bus. You and Cougar, both the same. Always watching.” She lets go of Aisha’s hand to take a long swallow of coffee. Work leaves her tired, and she wants to be awake. 

“I’ve never really seen New York properly,” Aisha says finally, examining the well-trimmed curve of her nails. There’s something almost hesitant in her expression, more careful than she usually is, Cat thinks. 

“Hm. S’a good city.” Cat loves New York, loves the feel of it under her boots and in her bones. It has it’s bad sides, but she loves it well anyway. 

“I want to come back sometime.” Cat looks up, catches Aisha’s eye. Happiness is growing in her heart, careful but with potential. 

“You are welcome to stay with me. Any time.”

 

They walk back, casual, Cat pointing out bits of the city she thinks are worth noticing. Aisha pays attention to them all and pretends she’s not grinning like a fool. When they get back to the apartment, the boys are home and Pooch is bleeding on the kitchen table as Cougar stitches him up. 

“That Wade guy was a fucking _dick_ ,” Pooch groans through his teeth, glancing quickly at the knife wound in his shoulder. 

“Real fast hand with a knife,” Jensen comments, and Pooch swears at him. Cat has a harshly whispered conversation in Spanish with Cougar that everyone pretends not to understand. She’s not pleased about the blood on her table.

Pooch isn’t hurt badly, so Aisha’s not particularly worried. Anyway, the Wade guy had good info on Max, and was willing to share it. Jensen is brimming with energy, typing on two computers at once and babbling explanations at anyone who will listen.

“We pack up now. We’ll be on a plane to Belize before ten,” Clay orders. 

“You’re leaving?” Cat cuts in, eyes darting so quickly to Aisha that it’s barely noticeable.

Jensen speaks around the pen in his mouth, garbled. “Well, yeah, Max has some fucked up shit down there so I figure we’ll slide our cute little asses in, blow it all up, get more info, you know. Loser stuff.”  
The rest of the team is already gathering their belongings and if Clay gives her one more sympathetic look she’s going to punch him in the throat. So she was looking forward to spending more time with Cat, it doesn’t matter.  
They’re still strangers and the mission is most important. “Yep, plane leaves in half an hour, guys, hurry up,” Jensen says brightly, more excited than usual. 

From what she can tell, this info could really be the key to catching Max, to ending their vengeance. Aisha doesn’t know what she’ll do after, what’ll happen to them. Maybe she’ll come visit New York.  
Cat sidles up behind her, presses a piece of paper into her hand. “Phone number. We’ll talk,” she murmurs, low enough that Aisha has to incline her head to hear. “Be friends,” Cat finishes, like it’s already decided. Maybe it is. Aisha squeezes her hand, just a little, and smiles wide. 

SIX MONTHS LATER

Cat is humming something in her head, a stupid tune involving cats that Jensen sent her as a joke. She walks the stairs to her apartment slowly, feeling the weight of the job in her legs.

Only two robberies today, but lots of paperwork. Also, Nick was out sick, so she had to partner with some wannabe hero who kept going for his gun. She unlocks her door, takes a step through, and freezes. _Someone is here_.

She’s always had good ears, and she can hear them breathing. She runs through possibilities. A perp come back for revenge? Someone connected to Carlos?

“I’m armed. Come out,” she calls, proud that her voice doesn’t waver.

“It’s just me.” 

Cat relaxes, lowers her gun. “Aisha. The team?” 

“They’re fine,” she’s quick to reassure, stepping into the light cast by streetlamps. There’s a new cut along her cheekbone, ending right below her eye. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Cat shrugs, motioning for her to sit down as she takes her gun belt off. 

Aisha settles gracefully onto the couch and smiles brightly. Cat gives her a thin smile back, still a little on edge. She doesn’t like being surprised. But it’s Aisha, who paid for their breakfast and has Carlos’ respect. Plus, she’s pretty.

“The team doesn’t need me where they are. I thought I’d come visit.” She crosses her legs and grins, all slow lazy heat. “You said you’d show me New York?” 

“Sleep first,” Cat decides, unbuttoning her over shirt.

“I’ll take the couch. I know where the blankets are,” Aisha says, sliding her boots off.

“Already?” Cat throws over her shoulder, smirking. 

“Know the territory,” Aisha says playfully, looking up through her hair. Cat laughs.

 

They end up on the couch before bed, watching X-Files, tucked shoulder to shoulder. Aisha texts always, constantly checking up with the team. Cat takes notice of the small stresses around her eyes.

She doesn’t like being away from the Losers. Neither does Carlos. They’re stronger than family, which Cat would be upset about, but he smiles now. That’s all that matters. She dozes on and off against Aisha’s arm.

It feels nice to relax, if a little weird. The team is in Lebanon, and they really only need Pooch for this mission, with Cougar hanging around as backup. Jensen is with his sister, and Clay’s off doing…whatever it is Clay does. Dangerous women, probably. 

She’ll carry Cat to bed eventually, it’s not like she’s that heavy. Aisha’s carried Jensen’s fat ass through warzones before, this isn’t a big deal. She curls her toes against Cat’s ankle and settles in to watch Scully be skeptic.

 

Cat wakes up in her own bed with the covers tucked around her chin. She can hear the TV going in the main room. There’s six hours before her next shift, so she dresses in shorts and a tank top then goes out to wake Aisha.

Aisha’s already up, sitting at the kitchen table with a newspaper spread in front of her. Her hair is wound perfectly around her head in thin braids. 

“Hey,” she says without turning, smoothing down a page. “Gas prices are up.” Cat walks everywhere, or takes the subway, so she makes an unconcerned noise. “Cougar says hello.”

“Anything else?” 

“It’s Cougar. So. You’re lucky to get that much.” 

“Mm.” Cat slicks her hair back before grabbing a protein bar. “Your hair is pretty.” 

“So are you.” 

“Hm. Maybe. Ready to go?” Cat asks, trying and failing to hide her blush.

Aisha looks startled for a moment before she laughs. “Yeah, I guess I am. Where are we headed first?” 

“Mermaid Inn.” Cat hums happily, thinking of waffles. It’s a touristy spot, but those are fun, if you do it right. 

They eat their waffles as they walk, maple syrup smeared over Aisha’s hands and chin. “Can we do the Empire State Building?” she asks, licking delicately at her fingers. Cat has to shake herself. 

“F’course.” It’s been a while since she climbed it. Last time she was with Adelia, who was visiting from Arizona. Cat had a kid in each arm and Adelia was grinning. A good day. Cat doesn’t like heights, she never has, but a good day anyway. 

They wait in line, Aisha pressed up close behind her, belt buckle occasionally touching the small of her back. Cat tunes out the noise and smell of people crowded together and turns, goes on her tiptoes to whisper in Aisha’s ear. 

It’s heavily pierced. Cat had a lip ring, once, but it was against department regulations. Sometimes she misses it. “Relax, hm?” 

Aisha’s been getting slowly tenser, the veins of her arms standing in stark relief. She huffs a laugh, turning her face so her nose brushes Cat’s cheek. “I’m fine.” 

Just like Carlos, like everyone Cat knows, refusing to show weakness. Crowds make Aisha nervous. Cat files that away as they get inside the elevator. She won’t use it, but she likes knowing things. 

 

Cat doesn’t like heights, as it turns out. Ironic, considering her name. Aisha doesn’t mention it, because Cat’s controlling herself well. Aisha peers down to the pavement, where the people are ants. It’s impossible to climb over the rails now, too many people have committed suicide for them not to be careful. 

Aisha lets the wind toss her hair about. She’s not as awed as she thinks she probably should be. But Aisha doesn’t feel a lot of things she probably should. Jensen keeps telling her that.

She turns back to Cat, smiles as a reflex, because Cat makes her feel things, then turns back around. At least she’s not up here alone. 

“S’pretty up here,” Cat says from behind her. Not too close to the edge, but she’s not clutching the wall, either.

“I can see for miles.”

 

“No clouds,” Cat offers. God, she’s talking about the _weather_ , could she be any more boring? She moves closer to Aisha, ignoring the churning in her stomach when she looks down.

“My father took me flying, when I was small. I don’t think we were even as high as this.” Aisha’s voice is wistful, so Cat wraps an arm around her waist. Aisha spits wetly onto the ground, dismissive. “So, I heard Little Italy has food to kill for.”

“I have work now,” Cat apologizes. “You'll wait for me?"

“Okay.” 

“Lebanese food for dinner.” Aisha takes one last look at the horizon and nods.

 

Aisha heads out on her own once Cat leaves for work. So, she’s not only here because the team doesn’t need her. Clay has some contacts up here who are willing to trade guns for the briefcase full of cash she brought along.

None of them, not even Cougar, suggested telling Cat about it. Not only has Officer Catalina harbored a team of sort-of mercenaries, now she’s hanging around with gun runners. 

Their base is close enough for Aisha to walk, which is nice. After the long plane ride from Lebanon, it feels good to stretch her legs. New York is like every other American city in the fucking world, too concerned with itself to notice anything else. She doesn’t feel out of place here.

The team went to Connecticut, once. White people everywhere, it was awful. She gets lost a few times, has to turn corners, break a man’s fingers. It’s not a big deal. 

Clay’s contacts are weirdly overjoyed to see her, can’t be older than twenty. She’s curious how Clay met them, cause these kids are clearly into some weird shit, and Clay’s crazy, but he’s conservative. 

Two of his contacts are having sloppy acrobatic sex as she stands there. It’s _weird_. The tradeoff goes easily enough, though. The kids are twitchy, which makes her twitchy, but no one gets shot. She heads home with a dufflebag full of Uzis and a big grin on her face. 

 

Cat crosses her legs when Aisha walks in the door. She drops the dufflebag to the floor and waits. “Work ended early?” Cat nods, giving her a lesser version of Cougar’s thousand yard stare. “There are guns in this bag. I’m not going to lie.” 

“You already lied,” Cat murmurs, shrugging. “Why?”

“We needed guns from contacts of Clay’s. We didn’t want to tell you.” 

“You don’t trust me?” Cat lets loose a harsh stream of gutter Spanish. “You’re just here to take advantage?” 

“No, that’s not it! Of course we trust you.” Aisha takes a deep breath, fiddling with her piercing. “I. Of course I wanted to see you again, also.” 

Cat visibly calms herself, loosening the collar of her button-up. “You trying to protect me? From the Feds?”

“Yes. I’m sorry we lied.”

Cat lifts one shoulder, then lets it drop loosely. “S’okay. We’re friends, yeah? ‘Cept you never call me.”

Forgiven, Aisha relaxes and takes her spot next to Cat on the couch. “Sorry. Again. I, ah, Jensen doesn’t share his phones willingly. He said I’d have to cut his arm off before I’d get ahold of them. Then, Cougar had that look on his face, I’m sure you know the one. I could not do anything.” 

“Mm.” Cat pats her thigh, hums again. “Lebanese now. Come.” 

 

After kibbeh that’s almost as good as it is in Lebanon, Cat’s foot hooked around her ankle, they head home, talking idly. The jet lag is catching up to her, enough that she slumps loosely against Cat’s back as she opens the door, hooks her fingers in the loops of Cat’s shorts.

“Thanks. For harboring a fugitive. Me,” she husks, close enough to see the hairs on the back of Cat’s neck rise. 

“No problem.” Cat pushes inside, giving Aisha a smile that’s a little more welcoming than necessary. “You sleep with me? Bed’s softer.” 

Aisha’s laugh is fonder than she usually lets it be. “You’re ridiculous. But after all that good food, how could I refuse?”  
Cat pulls her in by the hip, lips parting already. Aisha cradles the back of her head and leans in. “Just sleep for now, right?” 

“Mhm. You’re special. No need to rush,” Cat breathes, giving Aisha a look through her eyelashes that should be illegal. 

“No need, yeah,” Aisha murmurs as she tugs Cat into her lap. They have plenty of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like i have a friend who i love pathetically from a distance who always says, "you're ridiculous" but in a way that makes me feel loved? i dunno. anyway enjoy lesbians because i sure do. (okay actually not lesbians i'm seeing them both as bi because everyone i write is bi unless otherwise stated but you know what i mean) also god i hate the SIX MONTHS LATER thing, what is this, quizilla? but i'm shit at time passing so here goes


	3. Lana

Cat’s washing dishes when the phone rings. She dries off her soapy hands and stretches one arm to reach the phone, using the other to put plates away. It’s one of the numbers Carlos uses, so she ignores any more distractions.

“Carlos? Estas bien?”

“No, it’s Aisha. I finally got permission from Clay to use a cell.” 

Cat shifts the phone to her shoulder, grabs for Hector. “Who? Who is this Aisha that finally calls me? She sounds very rude.”

Aisha’s laughter is like bells. “I am rude. But blame Clay, he’s weird about using phones. Something to do with security.”

“Hm. Maybe. I got a cat.”

“How fitting. What’s his name?” 

“Hector. He brings only trouble. Big paws, small brain. You’d like him.” 

Aisha laughs again, then, wistfully, “I wish I could see. I miss you.” 

“Same.” They had three days before Aisha had to leave, three days spent mostly in bed with their heads pressed close together, whispering and kissing. Cat misses her achingly. Hector mewls reproachfully at her from his place on the floor, swishing his tail. She clicks her tongue at him. “Silencio. Esta es mi novia.” 

“I only have about ten minutes, sorry. Jensen’s giving me the evil eye already.” 

There’s a soft noise, then a muffled, “Jesus fucking Christ, okay, sorry!” from Jensen. 

“I’m back,” Aisha huffs into the phone, smug. “I punched Jensen til he fled.” 

“Rude, all of you.”

“I can be nice. I just need a little help.” 

“Mm,” Cat hums, says thoughtfully, “What are you wearing?” 

Aisha laughs. “Your brother’s hat. _Only_ your brother’s hat.”

“Hm. No. Carlos gives the hat up to no one.”

Aisha makes an agreeing noise. “Tell me more about Hector.”

“Could take pictures,” Cat offers, scooping Hector up. He makes a discontented noise but doesn’t bite. 

“I want to hear you tell me,” Aisha admits. 

Cat feels her cheeks heat. “ _Cheesy_.” She scratches idly at Hector’s head. “He is furry. Lots of fur. Always hungry, always wants love. I got him from the station.” 

“I can’t wait to meet him.” 

“Coming home soon?” Cat asks hopefully. It’s been a month. 

“No, it’s gonna be a while. Clay says-” Aisha cuts off suddenly, then there’s the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

“Aisha? Aisha!” Cat yells, cold sweat prickling her skin. She’s left listening to the dial tone, and she feels like she might throw up, but she’s stronger than that. She tries calling five times before she accepts that nothing is getting through, that she’s _stuck_ up here _helpless_ while her girlfriend and her brother get shot at. 

It’s fine. They’ll be fine. They have to be fine, she tells herself. Eventually, she falls asleep, phone still in her hand.

 

Aisha calls Cat while there’s still blood on her hands, body warm and glistening. None of it’s hers. 

Jensen’s laughing, relieved and giddy. “Fucking bandits, Cougs. I can’t believe you let them slip past you! Good thing we’re all so well-trained in death dealing.” She’s too far away to hear Cougar’s no doubt surly response, Jensen forgot she still has his phone and it’s been two hours, mostly spent interrogating bandits. 

Then she had to kill them herself, because the rest of the team is uneasy about dispatching armed men. She isn’t sure why. Cat picks up on the first ring with a rush of garbled Spanish.

“We’re alright,” Aisha’s quick to reassure. “Just some bandits.”

Cat makes a soft, sleepy noise of relief. “Still not comin’ home?” she slurs, voice raspier than Aisha’s used to. 

“No, we’re not. We have to find Max,” Aisha says, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans. 

“You call again. In the morning,” Cat decides for her. 

“I’ll save the date.” 

“Mm. Better.” Aisha can hear her breathing, even in and out. She has a sudden longing for Cat beside her, solid and sleepy, hands curled in fists under her head. Aisha has only gotten to see Cat sleep once. Things missed.

“Go to sleep. I miss you.” 

“Miss you, too.” Aisha hangs up and tosses the phone to Jensen, who’s grinning his most assholeish grin. 

“Was that your _girlfriend_?” 

“You don’t need your toes to type,” she reminds him, and he backs away without further comment.


	4. Laurel

“I’m coming home,” Aisha says into the phone, quietly confidential. The guys are asleep, Clay’s snoring practically rattling the windows. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Cat. “Soon?” she breathes, and Aisha has to swallow her grin. 

“Yes, chulita. A week.” Clay says more like two weeks, but if Aisha can kill her targets quickly, it’ll be shortened to one. 

\--------------------

“ _Jesus_ ,” Cat spits as she turns on the light. Aisha’s standing at the window, looking pensive. Aisha turns and beams, so Cat’ll forgive the scare. “You could ring,” she says sternly, pulling Aisha down for a kiss. There are dark shadows under her eyes, a cut on her bottom lip. “Okay?” Cat says, pressing her face to the join of Aisha’s neck and shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Aisha murmurs, running her hands up Cat’s sides. “I’m also here for a few days,” she husks, pressing soft kisses to Cat’s temple. “We never saw Ellis Island.”

“Better things to see,” Cat decides, tugging Aisha towards her room. 

“God, you’re cheesy,” Aisha laughs, leaning down to kiss the back of Cat’s neck.  
______________________________________  
Cat wakes up to thumping in her kitchen, almost-quiet steps. She slides the gun from under her pillow. “Aisha?” she calls, just in case.

“Yes,” she calls back, so Cat relaxes and puts her gun away. It’s been three months, and she wishes she was recently showered and not wearing her ratty academy tee, but Aisha won’t really mind. She’s at Cat’s kitchen table, listing slightly to the side. Her hair is cut short, curls wisping over the bandage wound round her head. There are bruises around her neck and blood on her shirt.

“Aisha?” Cat sits across from her, takes her dirty hand. “Everything alright?” 

Aisha lets her head hang, rakes her fingers through her hair. “We got Max.”

Cat grins, squeezing Aisha’s hand. “That’s…my God. Eso es fantastico!” 

Aisha makes a horrible noise, a broken little whimper. “Cat. I. _Cat_. We lost Cougar.” 

Cat’s stomach drops out. “What?” 

Aisha gets up, kneels at her side. “There was a bomb that he had to…I’m sorry.”

Cat swallows hard, grips the table. “Mi _familia_.”

“Clay’s telling them. Jensen can’t, he’s…we’re all pretty messed up.” 

This will kill her mother. Losing Enrico, thinking they lost Carlos, and now this. “Did you get the hat?” she murmurs, because Carlos would want the hat taken care of.

“Jensen has it. He’s not giving it up.”

Cat waves a hand. “I don’t-” She chokes for a second, wiping angrily at her eyes. “I don’t want it.” 

Aisha pulls Cat onto the floor with her, tugs Cat’s legs over her lap. “ _Chulita_.”

“Who will die next?” Cat cries, and Aisha is _helpless_. Has been helpless since Jensen started screaming over the comms, awful hoarse wails. He won’t talk to any of them, went home to his sister with Cougar’s hat cradled in his hands. 

“Who will my mama have to bury next?” 

Aisha doesn’t know how to comfort, holds Cat tight. “Sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

When Carlos walks in Cat’s door two months later with a new scar on his face, Cat punches him square in the mouth, screaming obscenities. Then she hugs him hard enough to hear ribs creak and says,  
“You’re repaying us for the funeral costs. Once is bad enough, but twice is ridiculous.” He huffs a laugh into her ear and holds on.  
END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well here's the end of hopefully my last oc fanfic cause i really don't like writing them and anywhooo there are probs gonna be daredevil fics soon cause holy shit on a stick do i ever like daredevil. that show...hoo boy that show. everything i ever wanted bruised beaten guilty boys, compelling villains, NO LOVE TRIANGLES, strong friendships, ot3 potential, people who are pretty but not too pretty, excellent clean storylines...gosh. i'm done now. look forward to my fics i guess


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